


fighting is easier with you at my side

by shrill_fangirl_screaming



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Episode 1x06, Fluff, M/M, Mild Internalized Homophobia, episode "Of Men and Angels", missing moment, rated for light swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 05:53:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6067618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shrill_fangirl_screaming/pseuds/shrill_fangirl_screaming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alec shows up to help Magnus heal Luke. Magnus takes a little advantage of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Magnus POV

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by a tag essay I wrote on a tumblr post: http://i-am-having-an-emotion.tumblr.com/post/139578457772/maroukado-seeing-alec-cleaning-magnus-couch
> 
> i have no shame and i'm not sorry

In Magnus’s defense, healing venom from the bite of an alpha werewolf is genuinely draining. He may be ancient and the High Warlock of Brooklyn, but he has limits. He knew he would need a transfusion of strength. It just so _happened_ that it would work best with Alexander, because Alexander had the prettiest eyes and stammered adorably when Magnus flirted with him and had a smile like a ray of sunshine.

Okay, Magnus just wanted to see Alec again. Still, he wasn’t completely stupid- that’s why he kept Clary around. If the situation demanded it, he could draw strength from her almost as easily (it always worked best with someone you cared about, and he’d seen her regularly since she was a child, of course he cared about her).

But then she said “Bring it, warlock” and suddenly her resemblance to Jocelyn faded away and all he saw was Valentine in the set of her mouth, sneering “warlock” like a slur.

He was kneeling by Luke’s side and he could feel Luke ebbing away. Magnus was starting to ebb away too, strength failing as he poured his magic into this venom-ridden body. Clary and the others were dealing with the potion and Magnus was alone to fight this and he was the High Warlock of Brooklyn, fuck damn it, he could keep this at bay for another moment. He was willpower and centuries and killer goddamn fashion sense, he was Magnus Bane-

He had never been happier to see anyone than when Alexander Lightwood knelt by his side just then, a steady hand on his back to keep him (somewhat) upright.

“Help me,” Magnus said, stretching out a hand. “I need your strength.”

Alec’s beautiful eyes flickered, unsure, between Magnus’s face and the offered hand. “Take what you need,” he said finally, wrapping his fingers around Magnus’s own.

(This was the second time magic had necessitated Alexander’s hand in his and _thank you, magic_. He was all archery callouses and Nephilim strength and _yes_.)

Alexander’s strength burned through Magnus like a drug, like falling in love. With one of Alec’s hands feeding him magical strength and the other keeping his torso upright, Magnus bore down on the venom inside Luke, burning it out with centuries of warlock willpower and years of Nephilim ferocity. He was, however, careful to keep a part of Alexander well out of it- Magnus was more than happy to burn himself up to save the werewolf, but Alec Lightwood hadn’t asked for that. Alec Lightwood trusted him implicitly, giving his strength to Magnus without reservation. That kind of trust was rare, Magnus had found in his long life.

Magnus could _feel_ more than see when Clary poured the potion down Luke’s throat, like a rope going slack as he pulled on it. The collapse against Alec was genuine- the recoil from the release of magic left him a little weak, a little dazed, and backlash always had some kind of a physical component.

But Alexander Lightwood was _firm_. His chest and arms… damn. Nephilim. Who knew?

“You okay?” Alec asked, looking down at Magnus, and suddenly he felt so safe. Held by strong arms, concerned blue eyes looking down at him, he felt sheltered and protected and safe. So often he was the protector, the guardian (or avenging) angel, the strong one. It was nice, to be allowed to feel weak, to be the protected and the guarded instead.

However, he wanted the worry in those eyes to go away and so he said, “Yeah.”

The others went off flickering around Luke and talking of Valentine and the Mortal Cup and while under ordinary circumstances Magnus would be bouncing back to his feet, keeping up with the best of them and hiding what weakness he felt, he was in the arms of a beautiful blue-eyed boy who was built like _Adonis_ , Christ, what do they feed Nephilim?

“Could you help me?” Magnus asked, nodding at a nearby chair. “I should probably rest.”

The Adam’s apple in Alec’s neck bobbed as he swallowed. “Uh, sure.”

And then, glory of glories, Alexander Lightwood was _scooping him up_ , tipping him against that firm chest and cradling him in his arms, and there was that feeling of safety and security again, overwhelming even the familiar burn of attraction Magnus felt whenever he saw pretty eyes or strong arms. It’s like Alec was home, like Magnus had come home after a long stay away. He never wanted Alec to put him down.

So Magnus had a not-so-great brilliant idea.

Alec set him down on the chair and Magnus let himself loll a little against it, looking as weak and pitiful as possible. He kept his fingers locked around Alec’s. “That was a little more exertion than was probably wise,” he said quietly.

Glancing between Magnus’s face and their locked hands, Alec asked, “Do you- do you still need my strength?”

No. “Yes,” Magnus said emphatically. “Backlash from major workings can be devastating-“ true- “so it would be best if you stayed nearby. Just for a while.” Partially true.

The tiniest hint of a smile played at the edges of Alec’s mouth. Magnus wasn’t sure if the man himself was quite aware of it, but Magnus was. He’d seen a full-blown Alexander smile and he was _dying_ for another one. Of course, he hadn’t meant that quite so literally, but tonight had taken a sharp turn, so he shouldn’t be surprised. “Okay.”

“It’s good you came, Alexander,” Magnus said.

Alec’s blue eyes burned into Magnus’s catlike ones. Happiness flared in Magnus’s chest and he was about to say something a little more forward, a little less coy-

“Bane!” Jace came barreling into the room, eyes angry as ever.

Magnus rolled his eyes and shifted a little to more easily see the Shadowhunter. Honestly. He hadn’t seen stubbornness like this since Will Herondale, and at least that boy had good reason. Jace was just- well, Jace. “Is there something else you need?” Magnus asked testily.

“Jace, he’s kind of wrecked,” Alec said, “Whatever you need, I think it should probably wait until he’s rested a little.”

Smiling just a little to himself, Magnus arranged himself a little more comfortably on the chair and tried to look like he was half-asleep. He pulled a hand under his head to make a pillow, and it just so happened to be the one still holding Alec’s. When he rested his cheek against the back of Alec’s hand, he saw the other man freeze like he’d been caught in wrongdoing.

Oh.

He _was_ interested. But how could Magnus have forgotten- Alec was Nephilim, and Nephilim have very strict rules against men dating other men. Even stricter rules against men dating _Downworlder_ men.

So go slow. Magnus could go slow. He was hundreds of years old, slow was practically his middle name.

“Fine, another time,” Jace growled, and stalked away.

Alec shifted slightly, looking at Magnus with a mixture of concern and fear- well, Magnus understood that a little better now. “Just rest. Is there anything you need, like food or something?”

So a part of Magnus was ready to waggle his eyebrows, ask for a kiss to make it better, but instead he let his eyes slide shut and said, “A little shut-eye and I’ll be right as rain.”

He didn’t let go of Alec’s hand, however. He was going slow, not stopping.

 

Even though he didn’t mean to, he actually fell asleep. Like he’d said- the magic was actually draining, and with Alec looking over him like a guardian angel, Magnus dropped into sleep alarmingly quickly. He woke up without a hand in his (boo, no more strong calloused fingers) but- but with a pillow under his head, a blanket over his shoulders, and a tray on the table a few feet away with a steaming mug and a banana and toast.

He was being cared for. Like he was fragile. Like he was _real_.

Living for centuries, it made him unreal. In the last hundred years, he’d started to forget, how to feel, what being alive was like. This. This is what being alive was like, being held and taken care of and treated like something important.

He pulled himself upright, the blanket pooling in his lap, and reached for the mug.

“Hey, you’re up,” Alec’s voice said from behind him. “You feeling better?”

Much- a little sleep, plus Alec’s help at the end of the working, meant Magnus was fit as a fiddle again. But Alec’s concern was so sweet… “A little,” Magnus lied. “It was kind of you to bring me food.”

“And tea, it’s what my mom used to bring me when I was sick,” Alec said. His eyes locked on Magnus’s and a flicker of something ran through them- interest? Fear? A combination of the two? “I- uh, I thought you- uh, might-“

“It’s perfect. Thank you.” Magnus cupped the mug in his hands- chamomile with lavender, it turned out- and sipped it carefully, examining the boy in front of him.

Alexander Lightwood might be more than an infatuation.


	2. Alec POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TranquilityofPassion asked for Alec POV and many other people expressed an interest in MORE so, uh...
> 
> i still have no shame and i'm still not sorry

There had been this unspoken promise guiding Alec Lightwood his whole life: if you follow the rules, you will be happy. The Law is hard, but it is the Law. The only way that made any kind of sense would be if the Law made you happy- and if not happy, at least satisfied. Content. That was the deal. That was the promise. And he knew that under the Law he wouldn’t be allowed to marry his parabatai, or any man, but that was okay. He thought it would be okay. He could live his life without a romantic partner, and that would be okay.

To hear that they were going to marry him off was just a cruel betrayal of that promise he accepted with childlike innocence. He took it out on Izzy and he knew it wasn’t fair, but… he’d given his life to this, years and years of service, in exchange for the idea that he would be happy. That the Law would provide for him. He would be okay with never marrying a man, but to have to marry a woman…

He didn’t know what to believe anymore.

Jace. Jace was his parabatai, his other half. Jace asked for his help. Even if nothing else made sense, Jace was always there for him.

He went to Magnus’s, and of course everything was falling to shit there, too, because this was his life. Clary was fussing with some cauldron or something and Luke was convulsing on a sofa and Magnus-

See, he didn’t actually know Magnus that well. He’d only met him, like, a couple of times. He kind of thought Magnus was flirting with him, but that’s such a vain thing to think, you know, and what would an immortal warlock see in someone like Alec? Clearly Magnus was just like that with everyone, you know, it’s not like Alec was special or anything, they’d only met the few times, but every time Alec had seen him, he was all- poised. He had this way of moving that was sinuous and catlike and _absurdly_ attractive, attractive to the point where Alec literally couldn’t talk properly in front of him, if that makes sense? He was all glittery and debonair and deliberate, perfectly put-together for every situation and it’s not like Alec noticed that kind of thing, but he kind of did, but anyway, anyway, _anyway_ , Magnus looked noticeably un-put-together at the moment and that’s why Alec fixated on him instead of Clary or Luke. The man looked like he was about to pass out. Of course Alec went to him immediately. It didn’t _mean_ anything.

The beautiful blue glow of his magic was pouring out of his hands and onto Luke’s chest as Magnus swayed beside him. It looked like he was about to collapse, so Alec put one hand on his back to help him stay upright.

(His shirt was absurdly smooth and silky in a way he associated with Izzy’s dress shirts, and he could feel the smooth contours of Magnus’s lithe muscles under his hands, and _by the Angel, Alec, stop being so gay for five fucking seconds-)_  
__  
“Help me,” Magnus said, stretching out a hand, “I need your strength.”

Alec looked at the proffered hand- it was so lovely, the reflected glow of Magnus’s magic against the smooth contours of his fingers and the sparkling metal of his rings. He looked back at Magnus’s eyes, and there was no deception there, just desperation and trust. Trust that made him remember every battle he’d gone into with Izzy and Jace, they’d looked at him exactly the same way, and wasn’t that Alec’s role? He protected people he cared about (not that he cared about Magnus, like he said, he’d only kind of just met the guy and even if Magnus might have been flirting with him which he probably wasn’t because _hello_ , look at him, but, well, whatever). He was strong for others.

And with Magnus’s expressive eyes locked with his, his gorgeous hand outstretched… how could Alec say anything other than “Take what you need”?

He curled his fingers around Magnus’s, and it struck him how warm the warlock’s hand was in his. It was warm when they were summoning the memory demon, too, and smaller than he’d expected, almost fragile. Magnus Bane was the High Warlock of Brooklyn, one of the most powerful warlocks in the world, capable of summoning demons and dispatching them, but his fingers felt delicate in Alec’s hand- Alec felt needed. He loved feeling needed.

Alec was expecting a sharp tug, some kind of pain. He was literally giving a warlock his strength- he was expecting it to hurt. Instead there was a gentle nudge at his heart, his mind, whatever made him Alec, and he let it go. He closed his eyes to focus and forced his mind to relax, to accept this, to yield entirely to Magnus. That was one thing he was good at, being Izzy’s brother and Jace’s parabatai- yielding when necessary. He hauled Magnus back onto his knees and focused on feeding him as much energy as he needed, holding nothing back.

When Clary finally managed to get the damn potion made and down Luke’s throat, the gentle nudge released and Magnus just collapsed against Alec.

Magnus. Pressed against Alec’s chest.

 _Magnus’s hair was touching his skin_.

Alec swallowed to wet a suddenly dry throat. Magnus looked so fragile all of a sudden, no longer the powerful, seductive warlock he’d been every other time Alec had seen him. He looked like he needed Alec’s protection. Subtly, Alec shifted the arm that had been supporting the other man’s back to kind-of almost sort-of not-really hug Magnus against his chest.

“You okay?” Alec asked. He actually sounded normal and not like he was having a small panic attack, which was a minor miracle.

Magnus looked up at him, and Alec could see every individual speck of glitter around his eyes, each dark stroke of his eyelashes, and he couldn’t look away. How did people ever stop looking at Magnus Bane? “Yeah,” Magnus replied.

Alec wasn’t exactly sure- if Magnus was so badly off that he needed Alec’s strength, that would have left a side effect, right? Like whiplash? Clary and Jace and the rest darted away, babbling on about Luke and the Cup, but Alec was entirely preoccupied with the warlock in his arms. He was protecting Magnus, right? It would be irresponsible to leave him now, looking weak and fragile and still _looking at him with those eyes, sweet Angel_.

“Could you help me?” Magnus asked, nodding at a nearby chair. “I should probably rest.”

When he moved, the light caught against his features in such a beautiful way. Like his skin was glowing from the inside, such an interesting in-between color, with the strong lines of his bones underneath… Jesus Christ, Alec, stop creeping about his _bones_ and his _skin_ , you weirdo, he asked you a question, respond, _respond-_ “Uh, sure.”

He glanced at the chair for a second, then at the figure crumpled against his chest. This might not have been what Magnus meant, but he wasn’t sure the other man could walk, so he scooped Magnus up into his arms.

Magnus was lighter than Alec had kind of thought he’d be. He had such a towering personality and presence, you know, that Alec thought he was larger than life. But he wasn’t- Alec could feel the sharp press of his bones against Alec’s arms under the cool fabric of his shirt. It was rather like picking up a cat- lighter than you expected and somehow fluid. This brought Magnus’s head/face area _really close_ to Alec’s head/face area and that kind of made his brain short-circuit.

He settled Magnus in the chair as gently as possible, and Magnus’s head still lolled a little. By the Angel, he should have gotten Magnus a pillow. Magnus was _his_ , his responsibility now, so Alec would have gone to get him a pillow, but Magnus kept his fingers locked around Alec’s.

Alec wasn’t inclined to break that connection. Because Magnus was still probably borrowing his strength or something, even if he couldn’t feel it.

“That was a little more exertion than was probably wise,” Magnus murmured.

Alec was torn. On one hand, he didn’t want to remove his hand in case Magnus still needed him. On the other, he wanted to get Magnus food and water and pillows and blankets and tea, like you would do for an acquaintance, a friendly acquaintance who just exerted themselves more than was probably wise. “Do you- do you still need my strength?” Dammit Alec, why did he keep stuttering around Magnus? Magnus was suave and sophisticated and together and Alec couldn’t not trip over his tongue for five goddamn seconds, he probably looked stupid-

“Yes,” Magnus said emphatically. “Backlash from major workings can be devastating, so it would be best if you stayed nearby. Just for a while.”

“Okay,” Alec replied.

Magnus’s eyes caught his and held them, for a long, breathless moment. “It’s good you came, Alexander,” he said. There was something about the _way_ he said Alec’s full name, like he had enough to say that the four letters of ‘Alec’ weren’t enough and he needed the full ‘Alexander’, that made it entirely impossible to breathe.

He thought about saying something in response, but then his parabatai barreled into the room, bellowing, “Bane!”

Magnus looked over at Jace and asked, “Is there something else you need?”

To be honest, Magnus seemed kind of irritated. Didn’t Jace see that Magnus was exhausted? How did a person _not_ look at Magnus, or look at Magnus and not see how much that spell had drained him? He didn’t want to fight with Jace, because Jace was the only thing that still made sense in the world and also Jace might figure out that Alec kind-of sort-of might be a little attracted to Magnus and _no_.

But Magnus needed rest. “Jace, he’s kind of wrecked. Whatever you need, I think it should probably wait until he’s rested a little.”

The very edges of Magnus’s mouth quirked up, which only made Alec all the surer that he’d done the right thing. His eyes fluttered shut, and he pulled Alec’s hand under his cheek to fall asleep, which meant the back of Alec’s hand was pressed firmly against Magnus’s cheekbone and he could feel the tips of Magnus’s hair brush against his wrist and Alec suddenly felt about fourteen again, not in full control of his limbs just yet and hyperaware of everyone around him. His hand was _sandwiched between Magnus’s fingers and face_.

Oh, Angel, Jace was still there. Jace was seeing all of this. Oh, Angel.                                                                                                                      

He looked pleadingly at Jace.

“Fine, another time,” Jace said, _winked_ , and sauntered away.

Oh, Raziel, end his suffering now. Do not think about that wink. Do not think about the possible implications of that wink. Do not obsess over your parabatai _winking at you while another man uses your hand as a pillow, how was this his life?_

He looked back at Magnus, who was watching him through heavy-lidded eyes. “Just rest. Is there anything you need, like food or something?” No stammering. Go, Alec!

Magnus’s eyes fluttered closed as he said, “A little rest and I’ll be right as rain.”

Good. But- his hand was still trapped. And Magnus still didn’t look his usual _Magnus_ self. Should Alec act like Magnus was sick? He seemed kind of sick. He remembered getting sick when he and Izzy were little, and his mom would always bring them soup and toast or tea or bananas to try and make them feel better. He should do that, right? But he should also let Magnus sleep and Magnus was currently using his hand as a pillow.

Maybe he should get Magnus a real pillow.

In a little while. He compiled his mental list of things to do as he sat there, nominally waiting for Magnus to be truly and properly asleep before he moved his hand, but actually watching the slow rise and fall of the other man’s chest and enjoying the sensation of peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so is it obvious i, shrill_fangirl_screaming, have a MASSIVE CRUSH on show!magnus? that's highkey why this chapter is longer than the other one, i spent half my life agonizing over the way harry shum jr. moves because sweet lord it Does Things To Me
> 
> hit me up at i-am-having-an-emotion.tumblr.com with thoughts/reactions/prompts, or just to scroll through the "my complicated crush on magnus bane" tag, which is a thing i have because reasons
> 
> thank you for reading!!!


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